Sally Cinnamon, You're my World
by xFauxdilocksx
Summary: Two drastically different lives; one dream realized, one dream lost. They lost contact four years earlier, can Brooke save Peyton before she falls even further into the abyss. Breyton. Brooke and Peyton. Rated M for a reason. R and R.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer****, even though it's kind of obvious that I don't own anything, I wouldn't be using **_**fanfiction **_**if I did; I do not own One Tree Hill or any of the characters, thank the genius that is Mark Schwan for the beautifulness that is OTH… but come on Marky boy, no Breyton? Man up, Dude. **

**It's a day late, but **_**happy ten year anniversary One Tree Hill**_**; I grew up with you, you helped me makes sense of the world, and you helped me realize who I really am… You put Hilarie Burton on my TV and made me realize/accept that I'm gay; for that, I thank-you.**

**This one is kind of controversial, but I've pulled off controversial before, right? Look out for warnings, as there will be one of two as I progress though this story; it's nothing as dark as 'Bleeding' though, so… you get it.**

**Short first chapter, sorry guys.**

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**Sally Cinnamon, you're my world…**

"Okay boys, you know the rules; you don't tell Victoria, I don't tell your wives." Brooke Davis laughed, opening the back door of the limo and climbing out.

It was that time of year again; time to butter up her investors to ensure continuing financial support for her extremely successful clothing company, Clothes over Bro's.

So here she was, entertaining her investors the best way she knew how; taking them to a strip club and bribing them to secrecy; Victoria could never know where they were, and in exchange, their wives would never know either.

Because Clothes over _Bro's _wasn't aptly named through coincidence.

No, Brooke Davis had a secret, a secret her business partner and Mother, Victoria, would most definitely never accept; a secret she only ever got to embrace once per year; when she was entertaining investors.

The secret; the fabulous Brooke Davis was tremendously into women.

She'd been a late bloomer, realizing at the age of seventeen; it'd been a difficult process, she'd had a boyfriend, her best friend stole her boyfriend, she got mad. She then made up with both her best friend and her boyfriend, the cycle repeated itself, and she got mad all over again.

That's where it got complicated; her best friend and her boyfriend started officially dating each other and she got insanely jealous, but not for the reason she originally thought. After a lot of soul searching and self-identification, she came to the not so startling conclusion that she'd never actually been in love with her boyfriend at all; she'd been in love with her best friend all along!

She never acted on it though, her best friend wasn't gay, so they mended fences and that was that.

Until they'd lost contact four years earlier…

They'd lived on opposite sides of the country, Brooke with her company, her best friend with an internship and still very much in love with her boyfriend.

They'd struggled to find the time to talk to each other most days, but when they had the time, they talked.

But suddenly it stopped.

Peyton Sawyer had disappeared from the face of earth.

"We know, Brooke, what happens on investor's day, stay's on investor's day." One of the investors laughed, climbing out of the limo after Brooke.

Ironically enough, as her company was a fashion brand, her investors were male and mostly middle aged; she guessed that it was Victoria's cougar like attitude that was responsible for that.

"Although, this place is a new one." The investor continued as the group proceeded into the club.

"Well, being in LA, I wanted to avoid the big, generic, places, too much paparazzo to catch us out. So, here we are." Brooke smiled, motioning to her surroundings.

They were at a club in a rather run-down area, but due to her extensive online research, she knew that this club was particularly safe compared to the others; the best of a bad bunch if you will.

"Why don't you boys grab us a table and a beautiful woman, preferably a sexy blonde, and I'll get the drinks." Brooke flashed her signature grin, then proceeded to the bar excited for the evening ahead.

Ten minutes later, Brooke was walking back the table, a tray of drinks in her hand, and two beautiful women at either side of her, helping her back to the table with the rest of the drinks.

"I see you made an _excellent_ choice." She smiled, eyeing the dancer, whose back was turned to her, starting at her silver thong clad, tight, attractive, ass, up to her cascading, wavy, blonde hair.

"We know what you like, Davis." One of her investors smirked, and Brooke sent him an approving wink as she stood there watching the woman provocatively dance.

But as she went to sit down, the dancer turned around, and Brooke froze in shock, sending the tray of drinks in her hand tumbling to the floor.

The rest was a blur as she hot-footed out of there, gasping for air as she closed the limo door behind her, trying to process what she'd just witnessed in the club.

By the time the investors joined her in the limo, she was shaking and crying, and her fingers were tangled in her shoulder length, brunette, locks.

"Brooke, what the hell just happened in there?" One of her investors asked, a look of genuine concern plastered across his face.

Brooke tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled gasp, as she shook her head in shock and confusion.

"Brooke…"

"That girl, that dancer…" Brooke stammered, narrowing her eyes as she tried to make sense of the situation.

Her investors remained silent, waiting for Brooke to elaborate.

"Some of you have read An Unkindness of Raven's, right?" Was all Brook could manage.

"Yes, the book about your time in high school. Beautiful story, Lucas Scott is a talented guy."

"That…that dancer…" Brooke stammered again.

"You know her?"

Brooke nodded her head vigorously as more hot tears pricked her eyes.

"She… It's Peyton."

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**If you're interested and think I should continue with this; Review please :)**


	2. Chapter 2

***Contains mild drug use***

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"Sawyer, what the fuck happened last night?!" Peyton's boss asked, walking into the staff room backstage, slamming the door behind him.

She'd just started her shift after walking out of the club half way through her shift the night before.

She'd freaked out after noticing Brooke, and had instantly made a bee-line to the staff room. Noticing that she was clearly upset, Steve had given her a little something to 'take the edge off', then sent her home to calm down.

"Those were big money clients last night and you fucked it up!"

"I know, I'm sorry…" Peyton said from her chair, rubbing her temples in an attempt to relieve stress.

"Look, you're one my best girls, but you were a liability when I hired you and you're still a liability now!"

"Look, Steve, I fucked up, I know. I'm sorry!" Peyton pleaded, worried that she'd ruined another job.

"You might want to lay off of the drugs, maybe you'll get on a little better." Steve commented, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out.

Peyton scoffed before dropping her head onto the table in front of her. "Stop supplying me, then…"

Steve sneered slightly. "Your shift starts in ten minutes and you look like shit; rough night was it?"

Peyton sat up and looked at him sarcastically.

"Here, take this, then get out there; you have two nights worth of money to make…" Steve said, his voice short, throwing a small bag of white powder in Peyton's direction, before walking out of the door.

Peyton closed her eyes as the tears threatened to spill, just like they had done every single night for the past three years.

How had she gotten to this place in her life?

She'd had dreams, and ambitions, and she'd watched it all slip between her fingers.

And seeing Brooke last night had further reinforced how much of a failure she was; the last time she'd saw the brunette her life was going in the direction she'd planned…but now; now she was taking her clothes off for a living, while Brooke made them; cruel irony was the phrase that sprung to Peyton's mind.

Shaking her head, Peyton opened the bag and separated the white powder into a few thin lines, before retrieving an already rolled up twenty dollar bill from the desk drawer.

These days; cocaine induced numbness was the only way that she could make it through the day…

. . .

Closing the door of the cab behind her, Brooke ran into the club, determined that she was going to talk to Peyton.

She'd freaked out when she saw her last night, but not because she didn't want to talk to her, but because seeing Peyton in that situation had shocked her to the core.

What had happened to her to get her into the position she was in now?

Because there was no way that she was there because she wanted to be; it was obviously necessity.

And that's why Brooke was there now; it may have been four years since they'd last talked, but Peyton was still her best friend, all romantic feelings aside, and she was very clearly in need of help.

Smiling politely to the bouncers, Brooke walked into the club, thankful that it was quite empty, before ordering herself a vodka and waiting until the blonde emerged from backstage.

It wasn't long before she noticed her.

She was wearing black and red tonight, and her hair had a slight curl in it; a few men stopped her on her walk from the stage to bar, and Brooke could understand why.

But she wasn't there to perv, she was there to help.

She turned her back to the bar so Peyton wouldn't notice her, and as the blonde walked past her, she grabbed her arm and the blonde turned around with a scowl on her face.

"Read the signs, jackass; no grabbing the dance… Brooke."

Brooke panicked; now that she was face to face with a very pissed off and shocked Peyton, she had no idea what to say.

"I…I'm sorry I ran off last night." Was all Brooke could manage, and Peyton just stood there, frozen, even though she wanted to run.

Peyton nodded, and Brooke continued. "Is there any chance I could meet with you after your shift?"

"I…I don't think so, Brooke." Peyton said nervously, very slowly walking backwards away from Brooke.

"Peyton, don't walk away from me!" Brooke said, standing up to walk towards Peyton.

But Peyton tried to turn around and walk away, only to be met face to face by Steve.

"Do we have a problem here, melody?" He asked.

"Melody?" Brooke asked, scoffing slightly.

"We don't use real names around here; security measure." Steve told Brooke. "Anyway, I'll ask again, is there a problem?"

"I'm just trying to get a private dance with _Melody_…" Brooke said, finding in an, but Peyton shook her head profusely.

"No. Not happening. No, no, no." Peyton said, trying to walk away, but Steve grabbed her arm, to which Brooke said, "No grabbing the dancers; you might want to follow your own rules."

"What did we talk about before you started?" Steve asked Peyton, through gritted teeth, completely ignoring Brooke's comment.

"I have the right to say no. I'm saying no." Peyton said defiantly.

"Saying no is not in your job description." Steve retaliated, but as he looked over at Brooke, he realized that she was the same person who'd freaked Peyton out the night before, causing him to relent slightly. "You know what, Ma'am, why don't you hang around, have a drink on the house, and I'll send the lady over when she's a little bit more…agreeable?"

Brooke looked at Peyton, who looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Plus, this guy, who Brooke assumed was Peyton's boss, was an absolute dick!

So Brooke decided then that she wasn't leaving LA until Peyton, at the very least, was back in regular employment; even if she had to visit the club every single night until she got some conversation out of her.

"No, its fine, but I will be back tomorrow, so maybe _Melody _should consider just giving me what I want, because she knows that I _never _give up." Brooke said, more to Peyton than to Steve, before handing Peyton a bundle of cash to ensure that Steve wouldn't give her a hand time for not making any money; Brooke knew how those places work.

She sent Steve an almost smug smile before turning on her heel and leaving, dead set on returning the next night.

"I don't know what your problem is with that woman, but she's big money and you're pushing your luck just _one step_ too far." Steve said, his voice portraying quite a bit of anger. But as he began to walk away, an arrogant, sleazy, smirk appeared on his face. "Anyway, isn't it the women that you like, Sawyer?"

. . .

Four hours later, Brooke was sitting in a cab outside of the club, where she'd been since leaving the venue.

The tab was almost at $200 dollars even though she hadn't moved an inch, she was in LA after all, but she didn't care; she was staying put until Peyton left after her shift.

She was reading random posts on Facebook on her phone, when Peyton emerged from the club, and she very nearly missed her.

She looked up and saw the blonde's retreating form walking down the street, recognizing the old, blue, cross-body, bag that Peyton still processed after all those years.

"Follow that woman, please." Brooke said, pointing across the street to Peyton, and the driver nodded, starting the engine and waiting for Peyton to turn the corner before driving in the direction that the blonde had walked in.

They followed Peyton into a very run down street which contained shabby apartment blocks and mostly derelict stores.

Brooke shook her head in disbelief, her heart breaking for what her best friend's life had become.

"You can't seriously be living here, Peyton." Brooke whispered to herself, watching Peyton quickly rush down the street, clinging onto her bag for dear life.

And Brooke's heart broke even further when Peyton stopped and reached into her pocket, quickly counting the small amount of change that she had, before handing it to the homeless man who was sitting by the stairs at an almost dilapidated apartment building; the very same apartment building that Peyton then entered…

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**Sorry, I know it isn't the best chapter, but I had to get an update out.**

**Reviews :D**


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